Crossroads of bittersweet consequence
by tazx x x
Summary: On a train travelling towards an uncertain fate, Sanji is given a second choice when Zoro mistakes him for someone else. Will he take the new path lain out for him, or will guilt convince him to travel yonder at a corrupt society's will.ZoSan hints.Edited


**IMPORTANT.**** - This story was originally a piece of English coursework that I had to pretend was a ZoSan so I could be bothered to do it. There may be mistakes where I've had to change the characters a bit to make them look right and where I've put in hints at ZoSan for my own pleasure. But I really do need your help yaoi-fans! I need you to tell me about any mistakes you find and give criticism where you see fit (although if you think its too amazing to give criticism I wont complain ;D ...why don't I believe that will happen? T^T) yeah so anyway. Please please please read the second A/N at the bottom too, it will explain some stuff that when you're reading you'll probably be like "well that's not very sanji like is it!" so yeah, please enjoy! Thanks for your help!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the one piece characters.**

Crossroads of bitter-sweet consequence.

Muddy footprints covered the carriage floor making his own boot-shaped tracks almost unnoticeable as he stepped onto the train. He ducked his head further under the hood of his black cloak and moved to the seats in the back of the carriage. He ignored the stares that followed him. The self-righteous glares and the curious glances were all common fiddle this day and age, he could be holding a bloody axe and he'd probably get the same reaction. He clutched his violin case closer to his body as he weaved through the crowd of travellers all bustling to get to their seats or to store their luggage in the overhead compartments.

He slumped down into the window seat on the last row of seats, his hood falling down to reveal his shoulder length blond hair, tied at the nape of his neck, blond bangs covering the left side of his face, and his cloak falling open to reveal his long sleeved green shirt. Pulling his violin case further into his lap he sighed and positioned himself so his head was leaning against the window. The driving rain and violent winds did nothing but worsen his mood. He flinched as a large well dressed man spat in his direction in disgust. Of course, the man had every right to spit at him; to him he was just another low class scum-bag that wasn't worthy to be on the same train as him.

Society honestly disgusted him. The upper classes looked down on the poor and ridiculed them, playing ignorant towards their suffering and moral self-sacrifices to instead fatten themselves up and deceive their fellow businessmen in hopes of further climbing the ladder of social standing. In turn, the poor despise the rich and take any opportunity to bring them misery; finding a sense of justification out of stealing their wallets or literally stabbing them in the backs.

So what did that make him? He was neither. He was the bastard son of a prostitute and one of the former greatest businessmen in the world, left to rot on a beach at birth. His birth father had been a world renowned man before he died and when his family found out he had an illegitimate child, they had hunted him down to make sure he would never be able to leak his origins to the world and sully their good names. What made them believe he would ever want anyone to know in the first place he would never know.

He was born of a businessman's seed but had grown as an old musicians son. As he remembered the old man that had adopted him he unconsciously clutched his violin case to him tighter. The blond ignored the constant opening and closing of the carriage door next to him and stared out the window into the dark abyss outside; determinedly ignoring the blue eyes staring back at him, filled to the brim with angry tears.

When his birth fathers family had found him they had offered to take him with them of his own free will, and as anyone else would, he'd shouted at them and slammed the door in their faces. He had expected that to be the end of it, that they had only searched for him out of formalities. He should have known better. They had pulled strings , called in favours and tricked the already corrupt justice system to have his foster father jailed for murder. Murder! How anyone could believe that the kind old man would ever kill another was completely beyond him. They had then given him another choice and a few train tickets. He could either stay where he was or he could travel to New London down south and they would make it so the old man was let go; free of charge.

It had been three weeks since then and he knew, he just knew, that there was no way such an old and frail man could still be alive in prison. They probably knew it too. But still he went. What else could he do? This was the only life he knew. He couldn't protect himself, he wasn't incredibly smart or good looking; he wasn't very good at anything other than playing instruments. So what could he do? He was only fifteen so he doubted very many businessmen would take him seriously when asked for a job. He felt more tears well up in his eyes as he remembered words his father had spoken to him in the past, never having thought he'd be able to relate to them.

_'Do I run from what I know, so I may reap what I sow?'_

What did he do now? Did he run? Or, did he continue towards New London to hear his judgement? He pulled his hood back up over his head with a bitter laugh. His judgement. That's what they had called it and it was becoming all to clear that they were either going to lock him up or simply do away with him. Neither he was quite ready for, thank you very much.

His father had told him that the world hadn't always been this messed up. That law and order had once had more meaning than playground rules. Now there was nobody to help the people. The government MPs were all too busy fighting like dogs for the highest title so that they could play petty dictator with peoples lives for a while, until they too were killed off for the sake of the next animals reign. So much for democracy. The concept of moral injustice was so utterly lost on these people it was hard to believe the had ever known a meaning to the words. Not even their own children were spared from their twisted ideals of right and wrong, and he meant that in every interpretation the sick human imagination could play on. Infanticide wasn't uncommon amongst their families either, some of them getting a sadistic high from playing god within their households. The bitter sting of being abandoned by parliament was felt by them all; probably the only thing the higher and lower classes were willing to admit they have in common. He brushed his hands over his soaked camouflage pants as he contemplated whether or not it was fair to compare MPs to dogs; what had dogs ever done to him?

He sighed and leaned his head more heavily against the window, simply watching the rain fall. He remembered how on nights like this, when the heavens cried their weekly tears and the thunder rolled above, that he and his father would sit in-front of the fire and play music long into the night. They would often invite friends and neighbours alike to join in and further add to the warm atmosphere. Would he ever be able to feel that again? He wished he had cherished what he had more when he had it.

Suddenly screams erupted throughout the carriage and a loud banging could be heard from up front. The blond jolted in his seat and looked up, only to be met with a face full of smoke. He clutched his case to him tighter getting ready to bolt if anyone tried to steal it from him when a strong pair of tanned arms slid around his waist and jerked him up. He let out what was decidedly a very unmanly shriek when he was tossed over a thick shoulder and jostled around as his kidnapper ran through the carriage. He struggled and tried to wriggle out of the man's strong hold but only managed to fit his slim form into the contours of the man's shoulder better, much to his frustration.

He gasped when he heard the carriage door slam open and let out another quite squeak when he was dropped unceremoniously behind a crate. He ignored the pain in his rear and looked around quickly. He soon realised that he had been taken to the trains storage carriage, if the numerous crates and boxes were anything to go by. He jumped and turned around at the sound of the door being slammed closed and watched as his kidnapper moved a fairly large crate to block the entrance. He took the opportunity to size up his 'opponent'.

The man looked to only be a few years older than him and was leaner than he'd expected, large muscles worked to perfection as to not be too bulky or too thin. He was wearing a black cloak much like him with a white polo shirt underneath. Black baggy trousers and black, mud covered boots completed his outfit. What shocked him the most was the green haramaki tied around his waist and the three katana laying snug against his hip. His short, shaggy green hair stuck to the sides of his face and forehead from being in the rain and his equally as green eyebrows were set in a concentrated scowl over obsidian eyes. The man's strange hair colour, however, didn't deter him from noticing his strong jaw and other ruggedly handsome features. As soon as he was finished with his make-shift blockade his face lit up in a wide self-satisfied grin and he quickly turned to jog over to pull off the lids of the crates at random.

He quickly checked his violin case for damage and was about to stand up and demand to know why he had been kidnapped when a voice rang out from across the room. His head snapped up to see a rather lanky looking man with shaggy black hair stood behind a crate with a hand cupped around his mouth dramatically.

"Romeo, Romeo! where art thou Romeo?"

His kidnapper rolled his eyes and turned his head slightly in the other man's direction.

"Shut up Juliet I'm busy forsaking my family and looking for petty ammunition to use on your annoying cousin!"

"Haa, I love shakspe- hey wait , he doesn't forsake his family!"

The swordsman turned to glare at the other man. "He falls in love with the enemies virgin daughter, decides love justifies murder and decides to run away from home with a girl he's only just met, in the space of one whole hour. If that isn't forsaking his family I don't know what is."

The black haired man opened and closed his mouth a few times as if to speak before his face contorted in confusion "...What does forsaking mean? And he was allowed , he was in love!"

"To turn your back on something is to forsake it. And, yeah, he was in love with Rosalyn too but we all saw how long that lasted. "

"Oh come on! Its supposed to be about true love and love at first sight and all that shit!"

"I agree with the 'shit' part, there's no such thing as love at first sight."

The leaner man stomped his foot in indignation before he stopped and grinned deviously at the green haired kidnapper. "You say that but you were pretty adamant you were in love with that one girl back in Old Vegas."

The bigger man shot around to full out glare at his friend. "I was drunk!" He pointed his finger at the smaller accusingly, "And I didn't mean it like that. I say it all the time! like when I say 'I love your hair' but that doesn't mean I wanna' marry it!"

"Good 'cause my hair isn't ready for that kind of commitment." he laughed loudly.

He gawked at his kidnappers from behind the crate hiding him. He had been kidnapped by idiots! Was he not allowed any piece? Or did he somehow manage to piss of some ancient deity that's decided to take revenge by making his life hell? He glanced back and forth between his kidnappers before standing slowly.

"Erm...excuse me?" His two kidnappers shot around to stare at him wide eyed, the green haired one even going as far as to unsheathe a sword. "Why have you...er...'kidnapped' me?"

The two men blinked at each other, clearly caught off-guard by the question. The smaller man then smacked the other upside the head. "You kidnapped him?" He shouted in outrage.

"No! All I did was grab you and run in here, I didn't kidnap anyone!"

The black haired kidnapper seemed to deflate in confusion. "...You never grabbed me I came in here myself..." After a good two minutes realisation finally passed across the man's face. "You idiot! How could you mistake him for me?"

"It was an accident! Dammit, it doesn't matter now anyway, what your name, blondie?"

His eye's widened when he realised the swordsman was addressing him and decided it was probably better to tell him his name then to have his throat slit for disobeying him. "It's Sanji, I don't have a last name though"

The green haired man nodded. "I'm Roronoa Zoro and this-" He jabbed his thumb in the other man's direction, "- is Portgas. D. Ace, but you can just call him 'Idiot'."

Before another argument could start a previously unnoticed door opened and a man in a dark blue uniform rushed in. "Freeze!" he shouted, as if expecting everyone in the room to suddenly listen to him. The exact opposite happened.

Ace and Zoro immediately made a break for the door on the other side of the room, directly across from the police officer. In retaliation the unnamed officer took out a gun and pointed it at them. In his panic, Sanji had frozen on the spot but on seeing the others make a break for the door he ran across the room to follow them, seeing no other option.

Shots rang out, the noise echoing across the room. One whizzed just past the blond musicians head and another grazed his right arm. He dodged through the open door as quickly as he could and jumped when it slammed behind him.

"For a minute there I wasn't sure you were gonna' come," the swordsman grinned at him widely, but his grin soon faded when he noticed the blood seeping through his shirt. "You get shot?" He asked worriedly and in the back of his mind, Sanji wondered how long it had been since someone had genuinely cared about his welfare.

The musician smiled reassuringly. "No, its just a graze, it'll be fine." The adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins a minute ago had all but vanished leaving him shaking and very aware of the burning pain his 'graze' was causing him. It wasn't until he felt the violent wind blowing about his hair that he realised where they were.

They were stood at the very back of the train, nothing but a small overhead shelter to keep the rain from drowning them and a thin metal banister to keep them from falling off. It was a tight fit for all of them to stand in at once; it clearly wasn't made for people to actually stand on. He looked up as he heard the ominous creak of metal shifting to see Ace climbing up to the roof of the train. He gasped in surprise.

"What are you doing? You're gonna' fall!" He attempted to shout over the rain but it seemed only Zoro had heard him.

"Don't worry, he's good at this sort of thing. Besides, if he doesn't go to the main control room and hit the breaks we wont be able to get off. Oh, and by the way, they're pretty much gonna' think you're our accomplice now so might as well come with us"

Sanji felt as if a cold bucket of water had been poured over him. If he went with these people what would happen? As if reading his mind Zoro spoke up again.

"Don't worry we'll watch out for you. We're from a small village a couple miles from here. Its pretty poor and needs fixing up but its home. I'm sure we'll be able to fit you in right away, we need any help we can get anyway."

He'd be accepted into their village? If he went with them he'd: have a home again, be treated equally, he'd be able to help them and he could be his own man, no-one would have to know of his corrupt origins. He'd be free. But, on the other hand, if he went with them he forfeited whatever chance he had at rescuing his father, if he was even alive that is. Would he be betraying the old man if he didn't even try to save him, or had he already tried enough; done enough?

He looked up at Zoro. The man was still a mystery to him, could easily be lying to him, but he seemed sincere somehow; seemed to actually care about the blond stranger he's only known for about five minutes. The green haired man was leaning against the railing, simply trusting that his friend would pull through for them before the police officer managed to break down the door. He clutched his violin case to himself tighter and swallowed heavily. If he went with this man, would he regret it? Or would he regret it more if he didn't go?

He squeaked in surprise when the train suddenly lunged forward and grabbed onto the railing. He adamantly ignored the chuckle from beside him. He held on for dear life until the train finally stilled. He watched in torn agony as Zoro unlatched a lock on the railing, allowing for it to swing open. The green haired man jumped off the platform excitedly, oblivious to the copious amounts of mud that covered his already soiled boots. He jerked back lightly in surprise when Zoro turned around and offered him his hand. Sanji took a moment to stare at the others work-worn hand like it was his saving grace during a time of war, and really, when he thought about it, it was.

It was now or never, he realised. His heart clenched painfully, he didn't want to make this decision; not so soon at-least! He had to decide now whether or not to go with this man and start a new life, or if he should go back inside the train and continue on his sullied path. Would it be fair for him to go with him? When his father is in jail? Or would it be idiocy not to go? Because his father is most likely already...dead? Zoro must have noticed his hesitation because his grin dropped and he stared up at him seriously.

"A man once said , its better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all...I think he was an idiot, I also think you would be an idiot if you didn't even try to run from whatever's chasing you... "

Apparently this man couldn't manage to say anything profound without saying something incredibly stupid beforehand. His visible eyebrow twitched when he realised that his saviour happened to be an idiot. The blond took a deep breath and made up his mind, and as if to commend him, lightning began to clap vigorously in the sky. He clutched his violin tighter to him, swept his bangs out of his eyes and bid one last silent farewell and took the strangers hand.

And with that, the blond haired traveller ceased to exist, few knowing that he ever had.

-_yaoi!~_-

**A/N2 –**** thank you so much for taking the time to read this!. Right, time to explain some Sanji stuff! While I was writing this I instantly knew I wanted to change it to be a ZoSan too but, I couldn't just change the characters entire past (there'd be no plot) so instead I decided that Sanji doesn't actually know Zeff yet. So he doesn't cook and he cant fight. But if I ever decide to do a sequel (which I probably will at some point) then in the sequel it will be about 4 years later (so he'll be 19, get it?) and through those years, Sanji will have met Zeff , became an amazing chef/fighter, and went through all the stuff that makes Sanji so badarse (except in slightly different ways that I wont go into detail on.) so yeah, please don't beat me up for Sanji being so OOC coz I've explained it here. Also, yes Ace acts like a bit of an idiot and Zoro seems somewhat smarter...I really didn't want to change that bit so sorry if you don't like that...T^T **

**1 more thing! The name of the story is actually something I thought over (its part of the coursework) so if you could tell me whether or not you understand why I called it that (I'll probably tell you if you don't) and if you like the name or not it would be greatly appreciated. xx**

**THANK YOU AGAIN FOR READING**

**You have no idea what it would mean to me if you left a review so please, please do!**

**GOOD NEWS! i got an A* on this :'D thank you all for the support! (hits, favs, reviews they all mean so much to me!)  
**

**Love Taz. **

**xxxx**


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